


Time Won't Always Wait[ON MINI HIATUS]

by Arai_Meadow (orphan_account)



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Multiple Perspectives, The Hermits - Freeform, Will update tags, oh boy, winged Grian au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Arai_Meadow
Summary: Death is a funny thing when respawns are the norm. Especially when death finally occurs and the stories of a familiar face spill across time. Friends that have long since died rumored to be somewhere else. Death is funny.The hermits are chaotic, each having a differing ability that helps them with some aspect of their day to day lives.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 85





	Time Won't Always Wait[ON MINI HIATUS]

When someone dies, the world doesn’t know what to do with them. When respawn finally fails, when the death is considered their last, the world has to catch up to this new outcome. Normally, the world reverts time just enough, they’re safe again. The world can get busy, and forget, so when a soul is stuck just far enough beyond respawn, the world seems to stop for a moment. No one actually knows what happens once the world decides what to do with these lost souls.

There are theories, of course, that they’re born again, in a new world. That’s why new faces randomly pop up when the world starts over, with no recollection of who they are. Why, when some die, they don’t come back, and grieving starts, only to hear of a familiar face across time. Though, these familiar faces never have been proven to be the friends that had been lost along the way. Another theory, they’re finally free from the claws the world has trapped them down with. They are at peace. This theory is rooted in the fact that when the world does catch you, the death feels numb. Everything feels warm, and fuzzy, like a gentle static has invaded your senses.

They weren’t surprised when the portal spat them out on the ground in a new world. That was what it had been rigged to do. They weren’t entirely shocked to see the trees already replanted. It just meant they had gained a new member, one that hopefully would not remind them too much of a certain lost soul, when the grief was harder to bear. It was always shocking to see who had done the replanting, to see who they would have to adopt next. It was always shocking.

This time, they kept hope. He immediately hid upon seeing the portal appear, for he had been alone here for a few days since the world had plunked him on the ground. He hadn’t minded managing the nights alone, but once chatter filled the air, silence was too much for him. Once he heard the commotion settle, which was only to be brought back once a louder voice had told them to ‘be careful,’ he wanted to say hello.

So he did. He stepped right out from behind the tree he had almost begun chopping down, to feel regret crawl down his spine. They all stared at him, almost as scared as he had been, exchanging terrified glances with one another. He wanted to hide, step back and pretend like he hadn’t seen the large group grow silenced. As he was about to put his plan into action, to vanish into the water, a movement drew his eye. With a helmet under his arm, the presumed leader held out his hand, cautiously offering a greeting.

* * *

“Hey, Grian!” He quickly launched onto his feet, praying his guest didn’t notice his obvious discomfort. The thunder echoed throughout the towering walls of his base, causing his stomach to jolt forward. He had found himself losing his interests in storms, as well as nearly losing his lunch when they were around. Each time the clouds shifted grey he fled home and locked himself in his open base until they left.

Glancing up, he waved, Iskall’s green outfit catching his eye. As Iskall landed gently, Mumbo tumbled to the ground, quickly scrambling back onto his own feet. The two took a moment of readjusting, studying Grian quietly before Iskall began. “Normally, this spoon is late to mee-”

“Hey-”

“tings, not you, not without warning, at least, is something wrong?” Iskall paid no mind to Mumbo’s small ‘hmmph’ of retaliation, instead, he shifted his weight and continued his inspection of Grian.

Shoot. “Oh my goodness, how did I forget?” He buried his face in his hands, embarrassment sneaking up his neck. Thunder interrupted his thoughts, which was the answer to his question. He was preoccupied, focused on anything that could go wrong when it rained.

“Are you feeling well?”

Grian hesitated for a moment; he wasn’t sick. But, he certainly wasn’t feeling well. Most hermits loved the rain for one reason or another. Doc with his lightning trident, Mumbo for the noise the rain makes, things like that. Grian used to enjoy flying in the rain, dipping around and dodging droplets, but it was dangerous. Maybe that’s why Grian liked it originally, it was dangerous and risky, and he was brave, for once. Danger had grown frightening once again, like it originally was. “I’m fine.”

It was Mumbo’s turn to interject his opinion. His concerned glances faltered for a moment as he began to speak, only to reappear with each worried word that slipped from his lips. “Grian,” His mouth was connecting dots on autopilot before his mind caught up, “You haven’t been out of your base during a storm in a while. Is it the rain that’s bothering you?” Iskall glanced at him with the realization of the same thing, but still, he stayed quiet. Mumbo’s mind caught up, as well, quietly taking note of the storm comment, it was true.

“No, it’s not the storm,” Grian lied through his teeth, his wings twitching just slightly. “I was just planning through a new project, the rain helps me think!” The words held a little weight, balancing the scale of justice. He had been thinking, and the rain was helping his thoughts, the rain flooded his mind with thoughts rather quickly.

Iskall rested his hand on Grian’s shoulder, offering him a smile of comfort. “You’ve been thinking about what happened last time there was a storm, haven’t you?” Grian almost flinched, suppressing nausea. “It’s okay, I understand. We can have the meeting here, in your base, if you don’t mind.”

The last time there was a storm, one to this extreme with the lightning that bounced across waves, was a while ago. It was Scar, whose respawn was almost not, the last time there was a storm. A stray creeper flicked with the lightning bolts, Scar didn’t even have time to react. Cub wasn’t seen for a week, waiting at Scar’s side, who protested Cub’s constant attention. Scar claimed he was fine, but it was one of the longest respawn times Grian had ever heard of.

Grian numbly nodded, plopping down on the floor. His stomach settled with Mumbo and Iskall sitting down beside him, their worried glances quickly turning into banter. They quickly forgot of the storm outside as it faded into sunshine, their laughter drowning out thunder.

The meeting ended with very little information being exchanged, serious topics of business devolving into a series of jokes and giggles loosely linked with whatever had been said before it. None of them minded, though, as Grian slowly warmed up with their smiles and began smiling with them. It was over quickly, as Iskall proclaimed his next meeting was with Stress, and he had to get going to even make it close to being on time.

Mumbo left shortly after, declaring he had been gifted with a new redstone idea. Grian almost felt like going over and watching the magician at work, but found himself too tired to follow. He expanded his wings for a moment, fluttering them and folding them once again. Circling the bottom of his base, he double-checked that the sun was reflecting off of the water before deciding he could do something productive.

He gently leapt, wings catching the air that had been sickeningly still not more than a half an hour ago. With a couple of successful wing beats, he was out in the open air, above the sea. Reminding himself that the rain had come and gone, he circled his base, studying it carefully.

Deciding his base was fine, he drifted towards the shopping district, lazily letting the wind guide his wings rather than the other way around. The world was still dripping with the relaxation that generally came with rain, for most, leaving the main island almost deserted. Almost. As he curled his wings just enough that the world came closer to his feet, he noticed Xisuma lounging on the ground, practically lying in the damp grass.

“X-i-zuma-vo-eye-d?” Grian landed next to Xisuma, who sat up at the mention of his name.

“Green?” This earned a snort from the ‘Green’ himself, nodding to himself about how simplistic a name it was, yet, it was still rather creative. He hadn’t heard anyone call him ‘Green’ before. “What brings you to the shopping district on this rather fine afternoon?”

“It was getting too stuffy in my base,” He barely paused before nodding back at Xisuma, “Why are you lying on the grass in the shopping district?”

“I was enjoying the rain,” Though, Grian could’ve inferenced this, he silently wondered if any of the hermits hated rain. He wondered if even Scar still enjoyed the rain, and with that, he glanced at Scar’s terraforming shop, looking at the puffy decoration-rain clouds. “And then I was enjoying the sun.”

“Isn’t the ground muddy?” There was no vocalized response, Xisuma’s shoulders bouncing for a moment provided about the same information. Grian quietly wondered if Xisuma was always this unhelpful when enjoying the sun, or if enjoying the sun was a one-time thing. Grian slowly sat down, supporting himself with his hand. His hand, which wasn’t doing all that well at supporting him when it slid into the mud.

Xisuma chuckled, glancing down at Grian who was unwillingly laying beside him now. He looked over Grian, scanning his face, just to double-check he was okay. His response was a grin, Grian’s shock wearing off into nervous laughter, laughter to deter concern. Xisuma, after double-checking Grian was okay, layed down once more, bathing in the sun’s rays.

“So, the answer was yes, by the way, there is mud.”

“Oh, really now?” Xisuma chuckled, listening to Grian’s slight struggles to adjust, his quiet wiggling, feathers brushing against grass.

Grian groaned, his feathers ruffled and dotted with mud. “Enjoying the sun, right? Nothing more?” He wanted to get up and do something now, itching with a surplus of energy. He couldn’t hold still, but didn’t want to be left alone to his devices; to his thoughts.

“I was thinking,” Xisuma added to his previous statement, his smile masked behind his visor.

“About anything in particular?” Grian sat up, wings shuddering in an attempt to clear the mud from his feathers. He kept adjusting them, readjusting, trying to free feathers from feathers. Xisuma sat up after a moment, joining Grian.

“What are you doing here in the shopping district?” He asked, avoiding Grian’s question entirely. He didn’t mean to ignore Grian, but his thoughts weren’t exactly the most interesting to divulge, it was just admin issues.

“I got bored, after the rain, so I decided to see if anyone was around,” He wondered if Xisuma had picked up on what Mumbo had picked up, about the storms. About how the rain made every last hair stand on end, how the rain trapped him in his own cage of thoughts. He was almost sure Xisuma hadn’t noticed, but Xisuma knew just about everything.

Xisuma nodded, both communicators buzzing to interrupt what Xisuma might have said next. Grian quietly checked his, Xisuma’s visor flicking the chat up. They both let go of a quiet gasp, a death message. Xisuma’s heart pounded against his chest, quickly pulling out his own communicator and typing a message.

It was a death message from Mumbo, the spoon himself. Grian was standing, shaking out his wings in preparation to fly when no message came back immediately. “I’m gonna go check on him,” He burst into the air, trembling just enough that he had to focus extra hard on not plummeting into the water with the way his wings twitched.

Xisuma watched him off. He noticed the way his wings took a few extra moments to adjust to flying rather than leaping into the air and gliding back down with a jump boost. Xisuma quietly waited for a message from Mumbo, holding his breath.

The buzz didn’t come, and after a moment, Xisuma felt obliged to check the logs. See if the respawn worked. His stomach tied itself into a knot as he slowly opened his logs. As he looked at the death message, into the coding that sent the message, time slowed for a moment. He could feel the way the air grew heavy and his limbs got attached to bedrock. Then he felt light, quick and jumpy, the coding message revealing a respawn. Xisuma waited for the message, for a message from Grian, from a message from Mumbo. Xisuma realized he should’ve warned Grian not to fly, the world’s jumpiness attributed to Mumbo’s death.

Grian was soaked. His wings remained too heavy to fly, and the water lashed at his back. He wasn’t too far from Mumbo’s base, but panic was still wreaking havoc in his mind. His communicator hadn’t buzzed. He dived under the water and swam, a small troupe of dolphins joining him. They blessed him with the ability to take a couple of careful breaths, to grant him the gift of flight underwater. Mumbo’s terraformed island was within reach rather quickly. Grian pulled himself above the surface, he struggled to take gentle breaths, panic combined with lack of air led to short, quick, hyperventilations.

He clambered onto the shore, pulling himself onto his feet, shaking out his wings. He grumbled at his heavy feathers, ignoring the advisories of not to fly with damp feathers he had constantly reminded himself of, and took off into the air. With a few almost-failed rockets, he was spiraling around Mumbo’s storage system. He gently landed on the ground, wings curling on his back.

Beginning his thoughts aloud he scanned the area, “Mumbo, you spoon, where did you go?” His hands were trembling just slightly, but his voice remained calm. He snapped, turning around and diving off the edge, “I’m the spoon, your bed would be down here!” He landed, not giving himself even a moment to react besides with a grunt, and took off towards the small room Mumbo considered his bedroom.

Grian paused in the doorway, Mumbo sitting on the bed, staring off into space. “Mumbo?” He took a small step closer. No wonder Mumbo hadn’t messaged. He snapped in Mumbo’s face, watching the man jerk away from the noise but not even look at Grian. He pulled out his communicator, quickly messaging the group chat that Mumbo was okay, still recovering from a respawn.

“I’m shocked you sat up, buddy,” Grian wrapped his arms under Mumbo and set the man on his back, chuckling. He knew people tended to come back from respawns quickly, but in the small time period where their minds were still lost without bodies, they tended to be entranced, almost asleep.

Mumbo murmured a response, but no words actually formed. He tried to get up again, only for Grian to push him back down. “Now, Mumbo, I know you’re not trying to get into the redstone before you’ve fully respawned, right?”

Mumbo didn’t respond this time. He didn’t get up, he was still staring at nothing.

“I should go get your stuff, but you gotta promise to stay here, alright?”

“Oay, Ian.”

Grian puffed out his wings, beginning to shake them out as he stepped away from Mumbo’s small room. He pulled out his communicator, quietly messaging the group chat that Mumbo would be back in no time, he was already speaking and trying to stand.

He fluttered his wings again, groaning at the water that clung to them, still. He folded them, not wanting to meet his own fate due to a wing malfunction, and started rushing around the island. Quietly checking the death message again, he had died by flying. Of course. Grian’s mind quickly went to the storage system, that’s probably where he died.

Growing annoyed with walking and with following safety rules, that he himself had put in place, he unfurled his wings and was off. He snapped a tab of a rocket, fizzling for a moment before dancing into the colorful sparks that propelled him into the air. He landed on the sorting system circle, scanning for items.

Then he heard splashing. Glancing behind him, the irrigation trails held diamond armor, elytra, and tools, along with redstone and other, random, miscellaneous, spoon items. Quickly following the rows of chests, he found his way to the non-stackables, flipping open the chest to find Mumbo’s items. He chuckled quietly, sifting through the items, pulling Mumbo’s items to the top. "They'll be there for him when he actually comes to."

He messaged Mumbo a small notion of where his items were, for when he awoke, and dove off of the platform, quickly firing a rocket as he plummeted towards the ground. He relaxed, realizing his heart was still pounding against his chest, ringing in his ears, and his wings were not willing to carry his body without an occasional twitch. It didn’t help his wings still dripped with water, but he didn’t mind it for now, as it wasn’t affecting his flying as much as his anxiety was.

He floated above the shopping district, steadying his breathing and focusing on the wind that rushed by. As his focus dissolved into peaceful breathing, he slowly brought himself to the ground, landing in front of the travelling shop, his own shop.  _ ‘I should really restock that.’ _

He shook off the thought, procrastinating working on anything, beginning his meander back around the shopping district. His stress levels, he decided, had already been maxed out for the day, which meant all of the projects he had wanted to start were on hold. He hadn’t started anything yet, so there was still time to stop it, opposed to his non-stop, start-to-finish attitude.

After a few moments of mindless walking, bobbing and weaving between shops, he ran into Xisuma. Quite literally, ran into, stumbling backward to compensate from the sudden force, he glanced up, meeting Xisuma’s gaze.

“How was Mumbo?”

“He was sitting up, called me Ian, so I’d be shocked if he wasn’t back here soon.”

“He really gives me a run for my money in this name-game, and he wasn’t even participating!”

Grian stifled his laughter, letting air out in short puffs. He nodded at Xisuma, who had begun quietly laughing at his own joke. “Goodness, he’s such a spoon, death by flying.”

“That’s Mumbo for you, he’d drown in redstone if he could and not even realize it.”

Grian nodded, flashing back to the multiple times he had to drag Mumbo away from projects so he would actually take care of himself. Redstone generally caked itself on Mumbo, in his fingernails, in his hair, in every nook and cranny of his clothes, and whenever Mumbo was done with the project, or forcefully pulled away, he’d clean up. Mumbo hated being dirty, physically, like when redstone dotted his skin, but also his area.

When he had started the witch farm, Grian offered to assist with TNT. Mumbo, after letting a couple of the explosions go, practically begged Grian to stop, the blocks messily scattered on Grian’s side, opposed to Mumbo’s layer-by-layer side. Mumbo wasn’t exactly a neat freak, due to his cleanliness revolving around projects. After working, he had to be clean, while working, his area should be clean. Outside of those, it didn’t matter to him. His chests that spilled onto his island from beyond his storage system proved that.

“I should be going now, Gerard, I have things to do today, sadly,” Xisuma grumbled, crossing his arms and huffing, dramatic antics prolonging actual work.

“If you insist,” Grian hesitated, deciding against coming up with another slurred-together, name-resembling, string of syllables for Xisuma, deciding instead to follow his flare, “If you demand to leave me,” He draped his wrist across his head, shooing Xisuma with his other hand.

Xisuma gasped, hand striking his own chest in offense. “I would never demand it, I simply must go!” It was too much for the both of them, laughter echoing throughout the shopping district. After the air had settled, Xisuma waved a farewell, and after a small struggle of getting his elytra wings to open, he disappeared with a flurry of rockets. Grian watched him go, the air flickering around him with a long, translucent, string of green zeroes, only for a moment. Everything felt smoother when Xisuma was around, the world was kinder with Xisuma in reach. Even the mobs recognized something about Xisuma was powerful, and they tended to leave him alone. This had led to many early nights where bases weren’t the most stable, and mobs crept in through every crack with a creak of floorboards. In these times, Grian had learned, almost everyone flocked to Xisuma during the night. A mixture of mobs avoiding him, plus someone who knew the terrain and held the maps, created a safe haven around him. 

Grian shook out of his thoughts, Xisuma’s silhouette excruciatingly tiny to follow. He turned away from the sky, blinking away brightness before unfurling his own wings and fluttering them. They had dried out, more than before, at least, and he simply had given up on safety for the time being. He took off, the wind brushing his face, hitting him with a thought, what was he going to do now?

He drifted through the sky, aimlessly letting his wings carry him. The shopping district was fading from view as he drifted into the ocean’s air. His anxiety demanded he check on Mumbo, see if the spoon himself was okay. Though, another part of his mind spoke up, whispering to stop breathing down his friend’s neck. These whispers were quickly silenced with an overwhelming sense of determination. He was a good friend, he assured himself. He was determined to be there for his friends.

He was at Mumbo’s base in no time with the amount of rockets that left embers to dissolve in water. Glancing down at the storage system, the rush of air blowing his hair away from his face, he spotted a figure jumping around. Quickly readjusting course, he landed on the edge of the ring, slipping behind the chests and through each biome, reappearing next to Mumbo.

“Mumbo! How are you feeling?”

He jumped, sword drawn, which was rather unusual for Mumbo, whose reaction times were in no way the best. He settled, smiling and setting the sword back in its sheath, “Much better now! Thanks for saving my stuff.”

Grian checked over Mumbo, subtly glancing up and down his face, “How much did you sleep last night?”

“Oh, you know,” Mumbo paused, having to think about it. He looked up at Grian, sighing and frowning at Grian’s slight glare, “not much.”

“That’s probably why your respawn took ages, Mumbo! Your body was using it as a chance to sleep-- and just like your-fully-respawned-self, you tried to get up before you were ready.”

Mumbo nodded, noticing Grian’s words had stopped, which meant he was free from the rambling mess Grian could become when he was nervous. “I know, I know! I’m sorry, Grian, I’ll sleep more tonight, I swear!”

“You better,” Grian gently swung at Mumbo’s shoulder, smiling at the taller man. “Now, I’m bored, and have nothing to do, so what are you up to?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! Like a whole ass month without updates; this is why! I have started something new and I have a plot actually like lined up, which is wack, but man, this is gonna be a ride. There will be a BTW update soon! If you have any questions I'll be answering some in the comments!  
> 


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